Archive for the ‘2 for 1 (2 dates in 1 day)’ Category

ok, so:

Nothing happened with Virginia. He flaked on our second date and then decided he didn’t have any time to spare, even just for a casual sexual rendezvous type of thing. Bummer, cause he REALLY turned me on. Sigh.

Went out for dinner with the Slavic tech guy again. YAWN. Nothing there. NOTHING.

Met up with a friend for cocktails after that dinner with Slavic, yet again that friend kissed me goodnight, but he shows NO interest while we are hanging out. I’m too hot not to be touched. If you want me, take a page from Virginia’s book and put your hands on my arm, my ankles… kiss me DURING the time we are hanging out. Look AT me and not away. Not feeling desired = hey, we are friends and you will NEVER get me naked. NEXT

That’s it right now. The prospects aren’t good. I’ve got some morons who can’t spell…

“Hi georgious.hope to know u and read from u soon…..”
That barely has me keeping my clothes on. Damn!

“We’re you caught speeding lately?
Cause you have got FINE written all over you…”
Oh my god, so fucking witty. I’m ready and primed for you now! Really?! Does this work on some women?

So, that’s my current status. I’m considering asking my readers to set me up with hot geeks. Know any hot geeks?!

P.s. Here is a shout out to my Married Canadian friend who reads along. We had dinner the other night and were talking about my exploits and recent lack of exploits and after a few laughs, he mentioned seeing himself in here… so, here you are M.C. How aboot that? ūüėČ

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The texts started coming in while Cooper Fiennes and I were having a late lunch. Type Geek and I had plans that evening. Originally we were going to¬†join his friends¬†40th birthday celebration¬†after the¬†charity function, however we decided that INSTEAD of charity function sounded much better. The drama of those charity people had been too much.The next text message mentions that if I’m late, text him and he’ll come out to me. I told him, I would be there early¬†& extra hot.

A few minutes later  C.F. informs me that we are now going back to his place to shower and fuck. DAMN IT. The look of shock on his face when I declined, priceless. As much as I WANTED to be able to, NOT being able to felt really good. Leaving him wanting me was an awesome feeling. Sigh. Cooper Fiennes walked me to the train, kissed me frustratingly on the platform and we parted so I could make my date on time. I did send C.F. a breast/bra flash photo via text though after I arrived on my side of the station. He looked so pathetic across the way. Like a little boy who found out there was no Santa Claus. He flashed me his trademark smile as he saw it come through his phone just as his train arrived.

Okay,¬†now the cards were stacked against me.¬†My trains were running on delays with¬†signal switching issues, then a bus that was pulling off just as I walked out of the station…aarrgh. Somehow I was able to get home, rinse off quickly in the shower, run a razor haphazardly over my legs and slip on my hot dress, sequined heels, and grab some overnight essentials in less than an hour. I also took the dog for a walk around the block.¬†¬†Amazingly, I¬†make it to the restaurant with 5 minutes to spare … when I get his text. HE is running late. Turns out that the only other person as chronically late as me…is Type Geek. I should know this by now. He has been late for several of our dates. I should no longer rush, unless there is a time sensitive reason.

I’m pacing outside the restaurant, awaiting his arrival, fretting about what¬†meeting his friends means,¬†and texting him suggestively. He says that there is no guarantee¬†that i¬†will get laid that night. WTF is that?! He does have to leave early the next morning for a Father’s day event across the state, but really? Fine, I decide to tease the hell out of him then. I went into the bathroom and exposed my panties to the cell phone camera, then while outside again, I flashed my breast for the camera. I’m getting¬†laid damn it! I had a sure thing lined in C.F. and now, Type Geek,¬†after already owing me a few morning sexcapades and a make up for the time he fell asleep and forgot to unlock his door, I’m being told that I MIGHT NOT get lucky? Are you serious?! I’m kicking that man’s ass.

He finally shows up to extreme accolades¬†over my appearance. I DID tell him that I would be there¬†early and look extra hot. After a short hello and peck, we walk into the restaurant together. Meeting the friends for the first time¬†of someone you are dating is always a weird experience. Its a¬†vulnerable position if they know you are fucking because you don’t know what said date has told them about you. Also, you don’t know if it means the other person is getting serious with you. With C.F. , his friends don’t know the details of our friendship. They just know that I am around sometimes. I assume that they have their suspicions but we don’t over share since his friends are his colleagues¬†and his colleagues don’t know the extent of his split with his wife. Type Geek’s friends are diverse and older, his two closest and longest friends of¬†the group¬†are also very gay men, which now explains his total¬†non-issue with my past. There were 8 of us total at dinner. I liked 4 of them very much. The other two were odd in their tone with me. They were surprised by my age, assuming I was ten years¬†younger, and they spoke to me in a dismissive interrogative way.¬†It’s an odd thing that women can do with other women if they feel challenged or uncomfortable.¬†My comfort with the group and ability to integrate¬†quickly unnerved them.¬†We had¬†spicy Tikka Masala and a seared Tandoori Lamb, plus copious cocktails.¬†Type Geek isn’t known for being a heavy drinker, a few glasses of wine make him feel buzzy, so I was surprised to see him have 3 vodka martinis, a glass of pinot noir, and the espresso vodka shot we all took. This is going to be interesting as the night stretches on.

The restaurant turns into a nightclub after dinner and¬†we stay. We remained¬†in the¬†banquette seats of our original table and watched the crowd change. ¬†The music was awful, the crowd was worse. Then,¬†a nightclub¬†hostess tried to kick us off the banquette because, as she said, she had just sold the tables for bottle service. This is the point when the woman who arranged the dinner & paid the tab for all 8 of us commented, “excuse me, but I think I just bought this table for $1,000 so, we aren’t moving.” I then calculated in my head the costs of everyone and gasped. Yes, indeed, she did spend roughly $1,000 for this birthday event. Nice friend. No, we aren’t moving. Except, the music started to become too much, the crowd, too trashy, and we decided we wanted something “classier”.

Within ten minutes we had arrived at one of the most hardcore gay nightclubs in the city. The video screens all played “gay for pay” porn in HD and the club stank of adult video store movie booths, but, the music was better. Then T.G. had a beer, then a whiskey. The night really¬†spirals down from there.¬†I had asked if he had ever been cock curious and he said no, not really. There had been a fleeting consideration marked by quick dismissal back in high school. The guy?¬†One of his friends here¬†tonight. That friend gets told the story and then¬†suddenly¬†I turn to see them kissing. Ten minutes later everyone is on the dance floor except for T.G. and I. We are leaning against the bar and suddenly he looks at me strange and says, we should go, now. Officially wasted.

I¬†left T.G. at the bar while I found the boys in the melee on the dance floor, they came over to say¬†goodbye and¬†grab their shirts which were in my purse.¬†When the boys and I head back to T.G. he is sliding down into a seated position on the foot rest of the bar. They attend to him while I turn to talk to his other friend, the woman who paid the dinner bill. Next thing I knew, his head was in his hands and the boys were shaking their head and telling me he was sick. I didn’t see the vomit happen, but I knew then, I was NOT getting laid that night.

We got him out of the bar and¬†into¬†a cab. At¬†his house I was able to get him undressed, teeth brushed, and convince him to get¬†two aspirin and a glass of water into his body. I placed a bucket by his bed, just in case. Cool damp cloth on the back of his neck, head and bare back… and then I told him, wake me if you need me.

I awoke in the morning to find him with his face buried under the once damp cloth. Did he remember much? Not really. He was mortified, it wasn’t that bad I told him. Truthfully, it wasn’t. He was the most composed of any drunken vomiter¬†I have ever witnessed. Hell, I’m not that composed. He didn’t remember kissing his friend, which I had a feeling he wasn’t going to remember. Sigh. I fed him more water, more aspirin and then by 1 was able to get him vertical, showered and feeling human with a cup of coffee in him.¬†He was going to be 5 hours late for Father’s Day brunch. Woops.¬†I then took off for brunch with Assoc.Prod/Musician guy since we haven’t hung in a while and I wanted all the dirt on his new girlfriend.

For the remainder of the day, I couldn’t get this out of my head:

I felt a rush like a rolling bolt of thunder
Spinnin’ my head around and taking my body under.
Oh, what a night!
(Do, do, do, do, do. Do, do, do, do, do, do.)

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Saturday was a day of anxiety for me. I had committed to a series of events months ago, which after getting deeper involved in their production, I was growing¬†increasingly uncomfortable with the women who were trying to put it on.¬†There were multiple¬†levels of unprofessionalism which weaved together to create an environment¬†of which I eventually had to back pedal out of. I finished the few things¬†I had been committed to, however I stopped taking on new tasks and became an attendee, rather than an organizer. However, with the event days away, some things needed to be finalized in regards to my last tasks, such as the sound for the DJ. The DJ, by the way, was to be Type Geek, in a favor I was very thankful for. Well, the women behind the event forgot to order sound and rather than make a quick phone call to order said sound, they had a panic attack, told me they just couldn’t deal with it and that they were at at¬†the meet and greet and were too busy, but that they¬†were swamped. Hmm, that is usually what PRODUCING an event translates to… much stress. I’ve done it, and there¬†are ways to succeed and fail in it. Opting to socialize rather than deal with the 5 minutes needed to make a phone call and order sound to ensure your event a success, is probably the right way to fail. Now, with that said, in addition to the large evening event that Type Geek was assisting with, I was participating in an afternoon festival to celebrate the cause. Except, the women wouldn’t answer my questions about how the morning was going to run. In one moment I was told I was not allowed to drive into the park, the next, I was told I could, but then it was never answered to me WHERE I was to drive in and whether there was a location/set up map. As of 1:00 am the night before, I still didn’t know. I started to have anxiety. Should I even attend. I had decided that I wasn’t attending the evening’s event because the women had chosen to exclude my auction items, my award to the guest of honor, and my DJ, all in a thickly passive aggressive manner. Add on that I still hadn’t found anyone to help me at the start and end of the festival by watching my booth while I picked up the truck or parked it.

Cooper Fiennes¬†works close by the park and offered to help me, even though he had drunk¬†more than his fair share the night before with his friends. I assured him that IF it was a bother, don’t do it. His response was,” If I don’t help you, who is going to? You need help”. That was true. We met at the location at 9:40 am. The event was to begin at 11. I unloaded and went to return the truck, however, I ended up stuck behind a tour bus that was too large for its turn and wasn’t able to return to the site until 10:25. I surveyed the damage before me, only the tent was up. We had the shelves assembled in about ten minutes and even though I was later than I had hoped, the entire tent was set up by 11:20.

At this point I expected C.F. to go home and nap or go to work and get some writing done for a talk he has the following Tuesday, instead, he stays. With the combination of the abrupt gusts that knocked down a shelf and tossed product through the air, the oppressive heat, and the realization that the women had placed my booth far away from others, ensuring my foot traffic was sporadic , at best, the day could have easily turned emotionally ugly for me fast. Instead, C.F. saw my frustration and anxiety with the entire situation and made the decision to provide comic relief and friendly support the entire day. I kept telling him to leave and he kept changing the subject. I apparently did NOT know what I needed and he did, so he stayed. When the wind would almost upend my tent, he would grab the airborne end and anchor it to the ground, all while giving a come hither look and dancing against the pole with a smirk across his face and a wink. His jokes of parasailing were welcome distractions from the reality that my financial take for the day, would equal my rental car costs. I could have stayed home, since I made zero money, however, I had fun with him and we were clothed even.

After the event was over I took the 20 minutes to¬†drop my things at my house and then met back up with him for a late lunch of sushi and iced coffee. He had been adorably bratty and playful all day. Sitting at Starbucks, he looked at me and said, very matter of factly, “So, now, we go to my house and shower and have sex”. The only thing better than having him ask, was my telling him I couldn’t. I have a date with Type Geek. Since he and I aren’t attending/working the evening party, he asked me if I would attend a birthday party for some old friends. I assumed, wrongly so, that Cooper Fiennes¬†had plans with his friends. It is nice though, for him to realize that I am NOT always available, NOT always able to have sex with him at the drop of a hat. He thought I was kidding. I kissed him and had him walk me to the train. We were on opposite platforms, heading opposite directions. I discreetly tucked my camera phone down my shirt for a breast and bra shot which I then texted to him. He smiled from across the platform and boarded his train.

Now it’s time to go home and get ready for my date. These two men in my life right now, well, they rock.

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